


In the shadow of Dol Goldur

by Enide_Dear



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, i bet this is how he dresses every day, i haven't written smut in so long, sort of non-con, thranduil the disney princess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-28
Updated: 2020-02-28
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22937530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enide_Dear/pseuds/Enide_Dear
Summary: Sauron cannot take a physical form, but that doesnt' stop him from invading Thranduil's sleeping mind. But Thranduil has lived so long in Eryn Lasgalen that he is not just a Sindarin King anymore, he is something more. Something bigger. Something Sauron did not count on.Inspired by this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6fq1b3502RE
Relationships: Sauron | Mairon/Thranduil
Comments: 8
Kudos: 58





	In the shadow of Dol Goldur

Farem found the Woodland King in the Frog Pond the morning after the terrible storm.

It wasn't really a frog pond, of course, but a beautifully outdoor mosaic bath fed from the forest springs and heated by geothermal sources deep underground and therefore almost never contained any amphibians at all due to the high temperature, except in the winter time when Farem usually managed to fish them out and take them to a better hibernating shelter before Thranduil was aware of them. But the ponds green and black mosaic had given the kingly bath its nickname whenever the Woodland King was safely out of earshot.

"Your Majesty?" Farem stopped, a bit uneasy. Elves did not sleep as much as mortals but he knew Thranduil had gone to bed last night and had fully expected to bring him breakfast in bed, as had been the routine for centuries.

Thranduil didn't look up. He sat almost slumped in the hot water, golden hair hanging lank and muzzled and in the waters reflection Farem could see that he had not put the glamour over his face; the horrible burn scars were clearly visible. Farem felt icy hands close around his heart. Although all of Mirkwood was aware of the ruin that was their King's face, Thranduil never showed himself without the glamour, never even with his closest friends. The King was vain; Farem knew it. But today he seemed to have almost deliberately made himself ugly, or at least was beyond caring.

Desperate for some kind of reaction, Farem prattled on:

"Your Majesty, the kitchen will send up fresh bread and jam, tea and cheese and...."

"Bring me coffee." The voice, at least was its usual commanding tone.

"Coffee?!" Farem stammered. The southern luxury was brought in at exorbitant prices and the King usually only had it if he needed to wake himself up quickly after a long night drinking before having to deal with the Master of Laketown, Dwarves or possibly a dragon. Had he been drinking last night? There were no signs of it.

"And clear my schedule for today. I will not be seeing anyone."

"But my King, the...." Farem hesitated bewildered; his King was vain but he wasn't fickle or lazy and he hadn't cancelled scheduled meetings since the Prince had reached adulthood.

"Clear it!" Wild, dangerous eyes turned to Farem and he turned and fled to the kitchens with the order. Farem had known Thranduil for millennia and considered him a friend as well as his King, but at the end of the day Thranduil was a Sindarin elf while Farem and most others in the land were simply Sylvan. Thranduil might not be a Noldori or counted as one of the Wise but Farem knew that a Sindrain mind went both deeper and higher than he or any other Sylvan could possibly follow and that with such powers came a vulnerability to other kinds of attacks then physical ones. 

Farem was no fool. Last nights storm had had nothing natural about it; it had shaken the forest with a darkness and destruction that could only come from Dol Goldur. His King had fought to protect his lands last night and from the look of it it had taken a grave toll.

Farem didn't even dare contemplate that he might have lost.

Alone once more, Thranduil raised his head from his reflection to see the morning light filter down through the trees. The forest had quieted now. The birds sang in the sunlight, the tree whispered slowly to one another as they woke up. Not like last night, when he had awoken in the midst of the storm by frantic owls and night creatures trying to break through his window to wake him and the trees had tried to reach in to him with root and boughts as he sat, shivering, in a pool of his own....no. He would not think of it.

He'd sat in the waters since, but still couldn't wash the feeling of wrongness from him.

He knew it was a dream from the beginning, but it made no difference. Mortal souls may be bound to their bodies but elven Feas could travel much freer, could communicate and learn and ponder.

Could feel sensations as a body.

A hand slid down his cheek, warm and tender and Thranduil opened his Feas eyes to look into eyes that burned like fire. 

"No." He pushed back with all his will power and magic, but the other spirit only shimmered as in a heatwave and then steadied again. The hand playing with his hair let strands of it fall through his fingers as spun gold.

"Why not?" The voice was dark and husky, but sounded younger than he'd expected. Thranduil had never seen Sauron Before he lost his physical shape but he knew he'd been Beautiful. He still was.

"Leave. Leave my kingdom and leave me." He was laying in his bed - no, his Fea was laying in a bed that looked just like his own bed, his own bedroom. Sauron sat on the edge of the bed, as old and young as any elf, Beautiful and powerful. His sworn enemy for so many years. "You have no body anymore."

"Bodies are limiting. I could never do this to you outside dreams." He smiled, long dark hair hanging softly down to tease Thranduil's naked chest as he leaned forward to Place a kiss on the elven king's lips. 

Heat gushed through the King's body, familiar and yet long dormant. His body rose to follow the lips upwards as Sauron withdrew and a half-cruel smile teased the Dark Lords lips. 

Thranduil was not aware that he had left the pool but now he was walking through the Woods, naked and alone. And awake. There was no one around for miles; so much of his conscience and magic was tied to the Woods that he knew that without using any other senses. The presence of the Wood enveloped him like an embrace, wholesome and accepting. As he knew every time an old tree died or a new sprung from acorn or nut, so did it know all about him. He had fought to long to protect it from the menace in the east and it was grateful. He had aided the Woods, and now it would aid him.   
A few birds flew down and started pecking at his tousled hair. He let them. 

Hands and lips were on him, caressing not just his body but soul and he was gasping, hands grasping the soft sheets he lay on, fighting to keep from reciproking when the fire inside him wanted more, more. 

"You taste like fine wine, Woodland King. I could drink you all up." Sauron mumbled against his skin.

He probably could; drink up his Fea, consume him and cast him into darkness. 

"You will not." He said through gritted teeth and Sauron laughed. 

The trees reached out to touch him as he passed by; helped to ground him in reality and present. He was vaguely aware of leaves falling on his shoulders as he let his mind expand into the Woods, its slow whispers of forgiveness and strength where he could find himself again. His feet moved soundlessly over the forest floor on their way to somewhere he didn't know. 

Hair black as onyx fell through his hands, skin as white as pearls under his fingertips. The weight of another body on top of him, around him, inside him, pushing him deeper into silk-soft sheets. Every kiss brought hunger, every bite delicious pain, every touch fire, fire, fire that he had so long shunned back from. A palm enveloped his left cheek. 

"No," he said as the glamour was peeled back, revealing his burned skin and blind eye.

"Yes," the Dark Lord said, taking that too away from him as he smiled into his kiss and moved deeper. 

The forest was all around him now, inside his mind and soul as well as his body; strengthening him and lifting him up, filling him with light and strength once more. As he found his way back to his own mind from the soft reveries of the Woods presence he became aware that the Wood had once more crowned him a King. Hid hair was soft and smooth and bound in it was a crown of woodland flowers, a cloak of spring green leaves weaved with silk from kindly spiders hung over his shoulders, decorated with berries and polished river stones. A soft touch of magic on his face revealed his glamour back. Once more beautiful and powerful, once more chosen King despite all his failings. He didn't hesitate or wonder if he was worthy of the title; a king could not afford such weakness. 

His feet had carried him to the edge of his kingdom, to the grey lands that lay between it and the area claimed by Dol Goldur. He stood there, watching the desolation of what had been Beautiful once, felt its fell magic wash against his lands like a corrupted sea against shore. 

He stood still, with the forest behind him, felt wave after wave trying to break him and he didn't move. Steady as a rock against the onslaught, his magic and Fea rolling between the Woods and his own body, strengthening for every turn. 

Dol Goldur was a faint darkness maring the eastern sky. He didn't look away from it. 

Climbing towards climax, riding the undulating body now underneath him, he was almost heedless to everything but the pleasure rolling over him. Sharp nails cut like razors on his thighs but still hurt less than the mocking laughter rising from the Dark Lord. But he couldn't stop. No, he wouldn't stop. 

"Yes, give yourself to me, Elven King. Give your body, your soul, your heart, your pleasure and pain. Your kingdom and crown. Together we will rule. At it shall be - ah - beautiful." Sensuous hands moved over his chest, his ruined face, fingers slipping into his mouth and he sucked them greedily. "You need not hide from me. I know all your secrets. I will give you all the jewels you desire, all the lands, all the power. I will even give you your son back."

Thranduil stopped. His body - his Fea - was shaking with need but he didn't move. 

"What?" He whispered hoarsely and now it was his nails digging into Sauron's chest where they would have drawn blood had the Dark Lord actually been *there*, had he actually had a body at all. 

Sauron smiled, taking one hand and sliding it up to his own mouth, sucking each finger gently and sending spasms of pleasure through the Woodland king. 

"He is out there, on some fool's quest, sent by Noldori who has never cared for your people's well being. I know it. I will find them. And when I do, I will send him back to you, unharmed. All I ask in return is what you have already given so freely."

Desperate, Thranduil tried to move away, but the Dark Lord grabbed him and held him firm, kissed his neck as he once more started moving inside him. To his shame and horror Thranduil realised his body was too close to the edge to be denied. 

"This is just my body! Its acceptance will mean nothing!" He whined as desire rolled over him. 

"It is your Fea," Sauron countered, smiling as he pushed him back in the sheets. "It will mean everything."

"No!" He pushed back, with all his might, will and power, expelling Sauron from his kingdom as well as his body. 

It did nothing. 

Sauron laughed, pushed deeper inside him and held him as climax shook his helpless fea - and somewhere in the real world, his body.

"By your leave, Woodland King," he whispered as he placed a last kiss on Thranduil's ruined cheek and then he was gone, sending Thranduil back into his own sleeping body that woke up with a gasp, surrounded by sweat soaked sheets and a pool spreading between his legs, shivering with shame and the aftermath of desire. 

Green shot out over the grey lands, grass sprouting up between saplings, flowers blossoming and a nearby river that had been choked with pollution suddenly running clean and clear once more. Thranduil could feel the rage coming from Dol Goldur as the boarder was pushed back, Eryd Lasgalen once more claiming lands that had been lost for centuries. 

It was only, perhaps, a few hundred meters. But then, it had only been one night.

"I will see your Tower cast down. I will see you destroyed and cast back into nothingness. You will not touch my son." He didn't need to say the words loud but he did it anyway. "You will never get to me again." He turned to walk back to his people and the seat of his power to rebuild the mental walls protecting them all. Sauron would never get into his dreams again. 

A shiver of regret went over him at the thought but he ignored it and kept walking with his head held high.


End file.
